While the kids were with Grandma and Grandpa, Keith and Christine elected to go for a hike in a local forest: Morgan Hill State Forest. Christine is familiar with it by reputation, because a running event is held there every year (well, maybe not this year).
The only way to access the trails is through a variety of seasonal roads, most of which are very rough and require time and patience to maneuver through with an automobile. After driving the roads, the Buick now has a rattle at an idle that it didn’t have before. Perhaps it is only a coincidence, but perhaps not.
The deer flies were ridiculous and worse than Keith can remember them in decades. They were swarming the car by the dozens and were unrelenting throughout our walk/hike, encouraging us to move briskly and discouraging us from stopping or pausing.
The walk took us a little longer than we expected as well. As the crow-flies, we started on a trail that seemed as though it would be a 2 mile loop, 1 miles out and another back. That wasn’t the case, however.
It turns out that with additional curves along the trail , we were in store for a near 4-mile hike. Bear in mind, that isn’t a big deal on most occasions, but when hunted by deer-flies in hot and humid air, with a timeline to go back to Grandma and Grandpa’s house to pick the kids, and a slow drive on season roads to get out of the forest … well, it was a bit longer than we had planned for or could afford. Still – we made the best of it.
Keith brought his camera along for the walk, but used it rarely to avoid becoming deer-fly food. Besides, aside from Christine making funny and exaggerated faces when crossing very small streams, there was very little opportunity for photos in the old forest due to it’s dense growth and harsh mid-day light. As is always the case, there was abundant opportunities for low-key photos of foliage in dappled light, but little else.
